Sleeping Arrangements
by Stealth Dragon
Summary: A good ending to a bad day. Team fic.


Sleeping Arrangements

by

Stealth Dragon

Rating: K

Disclaimer: I don't own Stargate Atlantis.

Summary: A good ending to a bad day. Team fic. No spoilers. Written for the SGAGenficathon over on Livejournal

Teyla knew they must have looked a sight: battle weary travelers sloughing over muddy ground, their clothes drenched by light drizzle and gauzy mist that drank in the cold air that brushed their skin like blades. Rodney, in front of her, cradling his swollen arm against his chest, was unnaturally quiet. Teyla could hear Ronon's heavy breathing from where she walked guarding their six, because even a runner got tired, especially when making a non-stop dash to and from the village, and now carrying the front end of a wood and cloth stretcher bearing a barely conscious Colonel Sheppard. John was a wet, shivering mess choking up sporadic coughs between wheezing breaths. As for Teyla herself, she did not recall a time when she had felt this cold and exhausted, and her chafed palms were burning, making her grip on her P-90 torture.

And all because Sheppard had fallen down a well. It had not been a deep hole, just deep enough to require the use of a rope. The task of hauling John from the small well would have been easy had the walls not been covered in a thick layer of grime. John had kept slipping, Ronon had decided to run and get help since even the three of them pulling accomplished nothing, and Teyla and Rodney had made the mistake of wrapping the rope around their hands and arms. Rodney's arm, thankfully, was not misaligned, but neither could any of them tell if it was broken.

It had not helped when, after Sheppard had been pulled free and laid out on the stretcher, he had commented – deliriously, perhaps, through chattering teeth in a poorly timed attempt at lightening the mood - "You know... this is one of those... things... we're going to look... back on when we're old and gray and... laugh."

Teyla did not understand why he made such comments. There was nothing humorous about any of it, and she looked forward to making this yet another day to happily put behind her and never think of again. On being pulled from the hole, Sheppard's flailing arm had spattered yellow grime all over her vest and it's smell was... unpleasant: like excrement.

"Stupid Ancient temple," Rodney started muttering, breaking the wordless silence. "Stupid Ancients, stupid darkness, stupid well. Sheppard needs to learn to keep his damn light on the floor. Stupid Colonel."

Teyla arched her eyebrows at that. Rodney must have been in quite a lot of pain for such an attitude. Pain or not, though, it didn't sit well with Teyla. John's falling into the well had been an accident, one that could have ended a lot worse.

"Rodney, it is not Colonel Sheppard's fault. The temple was too dark to see anything, especially a hole in the ground."

Rodney kept his head down, his shoulders hunched like a petulant animal. "That's why we earthlings invented a little thing called a _flashlight_."

"Rodney..."

"It's Ronon's fault, then. He shouldn't have taken off to get help. We could've pulled Sheppard out just fine on our own."

Ronon turned his head enough for Rodney to see his glare. "Yeah, because we were doing great on our own – a half inch every ten minutes, we would've gotten him out by tomorrow morning."

Rodney hunched deeper. "You know what? Shut up!"

"Kids," John slurred. "Play -" then coughed, "nice."

Rodney scoffed. "Easy for you to say, you're the one getting a free ride."

John curled as much as the narrow width of the stretcher would allow, shivering and wheezing. "Be happy to... trade you..." He waved Rodney over with a languid hand. "Come 'ere. Let me cough... on you..."

But rather than move forward, Rodney slowed until nearly bumping into Teyla. "I'm plenty miserable enough with a broken arm, thank you very much."

They trudged through mud and moss-churned earth, through a forest dripping cold moisture from bare branches, then over slick rocks as they climbed the mountain path. The Eendassa built their homes in narrow crevices and canyons where wraith darts could not fly, and that wraith drones could not reach when the wooden bridge crossing a wide chasm was rolled up through the use of ropes and pulleys.

The nearest village was a collection of wooden houses sitting atop a web-work of thick beams between a deep cleft. In the growing dark Teyla could see the warm glow of firelight from the windows, like distant fire-bugs clustered in a tree for the night.

Warmth shoved aside cold when the team and five villagers crossed the threshold of the entrance house where they shed their filthy boots so has not to track mud across the polished floors. But it wasn't until Teyla and Ronon were taken to the bathhouse to wash while Rodney and John were looked after by the healer, then dressed in the plain but warm shifts and pants that Teyla felt slightly better. All else that was needed was warm food and sleep.

Sleep was going to be interesting. Being the cold months, the Eendassa had traded in individual beds for the shallow sleeping pits of the sleeping rooms that better preserved warmth. Teyla stood on the edge of the four-foot deep pit lined at the bottom with a feather-down mattress, with four shelf-niches indenting the paneled wall. Ronon stood next to her, Rodney next to him and a pale and shivering Sheppard next to him.

Rodney, gaping, shook his head. "No. No way. There is no _way_ we're all going to fit in that little tub."

"Well, it's either that or our sleeping bags on a hard, wood floor," rasped John. "I don't know about you, but I'm willing to put up with a foot in the face if it means not waking up stiff as a board." The impact of falling into the well had caused him to inhale some water, which – according to the healer – had not been kind to his lungs. But he had been given medicines that would help keep the congestion clear, including a jar of salve Sheppard had referred to as alien Vics Vapor Rub while eying it with disgust.

Rodney's lip curled in a sneer as his fingers brushed along the cloth sling keeping his arm immobile. He had not only suffered an injured arm but also a wrenched shoulder that, thankfully, still remained in the socket.

"Just think of it like Tetris," John said. "We just need to get creative about the configuration. Position ourselves in the best... you know... position."

Rodney gave him a flat look but said nothing.

"Get over it, McKay," Ronon said. "We've slept in a hell of a lot weirder." He dropped himself into the pit, the mattress sinking up to his ankles. "There was that communal sleeping lodge -"

"_Which_ I thought we made a pact never to bring up again," Rodney snarled. "The little girl behind me was a kicker and it was three days before I could feel my tail-bone."

"My point exactly," said Ronon. "It's just us, now."

"But Teyla kicks,too," Rodney whined.

Teyla narrowed her eyes sharply at him. "I do not."

"Ha! Tell that to the guy whose head was at your feet in that communal lodge. How do you think he knew you were a great fighter with powerful legs?"

Deciding not to dignify the comment with a response, Teyla hopped down into the pit at the same time Ronon flopped onto his back. The mattress dipped suddenly, dropping Teyla onto her side and rolling her face to face with Ronon.

Ronon smiled flashing her a sliver of white teeth. "This is pretty comfortable."

With a glare, Teyla gave him a rough shove to the shoulder. There was a loud "omph!" when Sheppard dropped and rolled into Ronon, back to back.

"Okay, this could be a problem." John said. He rolled onto his hands and knees, stumbling like a new-born animal as he crawled to the wall, placing his jar of salve in a niche. "I think this thing wide enough so we're not all squished together, but it's going to take some figuring out."

Ronon pushed away from Teyla to sit with his back against the wall opposite of Sheppard's area. "Teyla in the middle. She's the smallest. She gets cold easier."

Teyla slapped his knee indignantly. "I do not!"

"Actually," Rodney said, climbing down more gingerly, though he still ended up on his hands and knees when the mattress sank. He turned and grabbed the pile of pillows and blankets beside the pit, tossing one to each team member. "Ronon should be in the middle. It'll make more room for us and we won't have to worry about him crushing us all when he turns in his sleep."

Teyla pressed her lips together and looked away in order to hide her smile from the glowering Satedan.

"Rodney has a point," said Sheppard. He had the collar of his shirt pulled down far enough to apply the green salve to his chest and throat, grimacing all the while. "Ronon in the middle and we surround him." He set the salve back on the shelf just as he started to cough, light at first, then increasing until he was doubled over and convulsing. Teyla scooted and flopped around Ronon to be be within reach of John, rubbing his back over the spine as the muscles of his ribs shuddered under her hand.

"We should sleep head to foot," Rodney said, pouring water from the clay pitcher beside the pit into a ceramic cup and pushing it within John's reach, and all while giving Teyla a dubious look.

Teyla stiffened and glared back at him. "I do _not_ kick."

When John was finally able to breathe after a few tentative sips of water, he wheezed, "Teyla, Rodney. You two sleep... head to head, just in case." Teyla turning her glare on him made him cringe back and add with a sheepish grin, "Just in case. We all do weird stuff in our sleep. If your foot slips it might hit his arm."

She kept her annoyance aimed at him a moment longer, then relented. She was quite certain she didn't kick in her sleep, but that did not mean she didn't twitch and stretch. She did not want to cause Rodney undo pain should she get restless.

His cup in one hand and grabbing his salve with the other, Sheppard shuffled around to the other side of Ronon, then set the items in another niche and dropped to his side, facing the wall. "Ronon, keep your head by my feet so I don't cough on you." He pulled the pillow under his head, followed by the blanket up to his neck.

Teyla settled down with her feet at Sheppard's head, wrapping the blanket tightly around herself. She felt the mattress dip at her head as well as behind her. She tilted her head back to watch Rodney shift more comfortably onto his back, holding his arm though the sling was secure and he had been given a pain-reducing tea at dinner. She then rolled enough to see Ronon placing a pillow between her feet and Sheppard's head. When he looked at her, he grinned.

"Just in case. You warm enough?"

Giving him a heavy-lidded look, Teyla nodded. "Yes, I am. Thank you."

Ronon nodded back, but turned his attention to Sheppard when the Colonel started coughing. Teyla heard the hollow thud of Ronon's hand slapping John's back, hard enough to help dislodge the congestion but not so hard as to cause John discomfort.

Only when the jag ended did Teyla roll back onto her side, huddling deeper under the covers, warm and full and pleasantly sleepy. She imagined this, now, something that would be reminisced about when they were old and gray - should they all live long enough to look back on it. It wold be a memory they would smile upon all while shaking their heads over the ridiculous antics and attitudes of their youth. Such memories always felt rare, the bad seeming to forever outweigh the good. Yet memories were biased things, aiming for what brought pleasure and laughter, making the good as though it outweighed the bad.

John was right, they _would_ look back on this and laugh.

Sliding her feet out from under the blanket, Teyla felt the placement of the pillow between her and Sheppard's head, ensuring that it was indeed a proper barrier. She did not kick in her sleep, she was quite certain of that. But, just in case...

The End


End file.
